The Orphan Master's Son_ A Novel - Adam Johnson [63]
Dr. Song called the stewardess over. “This man is a hero of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, and he must have juice.” After she raced to get it, he said, “See?” Shaking his head, he said, “But you try explaining all this to the central bunker.” Here Dr. Song pointed downward, and Jun Do knew he was indicating the Dear Leader Kim Jong Il himself.
Comrade Buc returned with an ice chest. This he handed to Jun Do. “The tiger,” he said.
Inside was a slab of meat wrapped in a dirty plastic bag. Sprigs of grass clung to the meat, which was warm to the touch.
Jun Do said, “Perhaps some ice would be called for.”
Dr. Song smiled. “Oh,” he said. “The Americans, I can see their faces now.”
“Tiger! Imagine their response.” Comrade Buc was laughing. “I would love to,” he said in English, “but I had tiger for lunch.”
“Looks delicious,” Dr. Song said. “Too bad I’m on a leopard-only diet.”
Comrade Buc said, “Wait till the Minister gets in on the act.”
“The Minister would like to cook it personally, yes?” Dr. Song said. “The Minister insists all the Americans must partake, yes?”
Jun Do looked at the cooler, which bore a red cross. He’d seen a cooler like it before—it was the kind they used to get the blood to Pyongyang.
“Two things about the Americans,” Dr. Song said. “First, their minds are fast, and they puzzle over everything. You must give them a riddle to redirect those minds. So we offer them the Minister. Second, they must have moral superiority. They don’t know how to negotiate without it. Always their talks open with human rights, personal freedoms, and so on. But the tiger changes all that. Their horror at the notion that we would casually eat an endangered species will immediately put them on high ground. Then we can get down to business.”
In English, Comrade Buc said, “Here, Senator, let me pass you the platter.”
“Yes, Senator,” Dr. Song said. “You must have seconds.”
They laughed until they saw Jun Do’s face. “You do understand,” Dr. Song said, “that in this cooler is only cow flank. The tiger part is only a story. That’s what we’re really serving them, a story.”
“But what if they eat it?” Jun Do asked. “If they believe it is tiger, yet out of a wish not to offend, they eat it and feel morally degraded, won’t they take it out on you in the talks?”
Comrade Buc turned in anticipation of Dr. Song’s response.
“If the Americans use their senses and keep their heads level,” Dr. Song said, “then no tiger story will fool them. They will taste that this is cow. But if the Americans are just toying with us, if they don’t plan on seeking the facts and negotiating seriously, then they will taste tiger.”
“You think if they believe the tiger story,” Jun Do said, “then they’ll believe my story.”
Dr. Song shrugged. “Yours will certainly be the tougher meat to chew,” he said.
One of the young men on Comrade Buc’s procurement team came forward with three identical watches. Comrade Buc took them. “One for the Minister,” he said, and handed the others to Dr. Song and Jun Do. “They’re set to Texas time. Everybody gets the same one. It sends a message to the Americans about Korean equality and solidarity.”
“What about you?” Jun Do asked. “Where’s your watch?”
Comrade Buc said, “Oh, I’ve got no business in Texas.”
“Sadly, Comrade Buc won’t be joining us,” Dr. Song said. “He has another mission.”
Comrade Buc stood. “Yes, I should go prepare my team.”
The stewardess passed by with hot towels and handed one to Dr. Song.
“What do I have to do?” Comrade Buc said after she’d left.
“She cannot help it,” Dr. Song said. “Women naturally respond to the allure of an older gentleman. It is a fact that only an older man can truly please a woman.”
Comrade Buc laughed. “I thought you always said only a small-statured man can please a woman.”
Dr. Song defended himself. “I’m hardly small-statured. I have the exact dimensions of the Dear Leader, even my shoe size.”
“It’s true,” Comrade